


love me for life

by Still_sleepless



Category: MCND (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Closeted Character, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23381008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_sleepless/pseuds/Still_sleepless
Summary: Seongjun is driven frantic by the spotlight, cameras flashing like a heartbeat he can't feel anymore.
Relationships: Nam Seungmin | BIC/Son Seongjun | Castle J
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. displaced

**Author's Note:**

> I really like MCND so I just had to write something for them. Please excuse me if the characterisation seems iffy.
> 
> Also! For context, the number 9 and the Junhyuk and Yechan thing is to do with Under19.

The number 9 sits heavy upon Seongjun's shoulders, like a boulder that Atlas has forgotten. 9 is a necklace fastened too tight, lacerations left deep. To Seongjun, 9 burns with voracious flames spilling out words like _mistake_ and _disappointment_.

Late nights spent in the studio accumulate. One day turns into another turns into another until suddenly it's winter and you're still where you always were. Seongjun thinks that time stopped the day he became a trainee, no longer flowing like it had been before. 4 years in and he's stuck in the stages between auditions and debut, a sick kind of purgatory for all those who'd gotten so close to achieving their dreams.

_"I'm not close at all."_

To stand on stage would at least validate his aspirations but Seongjun is overlooked, even with all his experience. Instead the eyes of their superiors has scanned right over him and landed squarely on Junhyuk and Yechan.

He wishes that the feeling that rises as he smiles wasn't so damn bitter.

When he vomits, it's in the dead of night, all the others already asleep.

The road to fame is never easy. Seongjun realises that now more than ever.

Even so, no matter how bitter, it doesn't stop him storming into the lounge every week, switching the channel to mnet and staring wide-eyed as they watch 57 contestants compete for something to give their lives meaning. It's torture but he dips his limbs into the pain like clockwork. 

In the meantime, there's work to be done.

"Hyung." The trailing syllable is soft, sound almost absorbed by the dense air and Seongjun is startled from his daze when he looks up and spies Minjae lurking at the door. His copper hair is newly dyed and with every movement a hundred burnt orange lights seem to cast a reflection. Seongjun runs his hands through his own faded hair, rough hair growing out dark roots which are still brittle with chemical processing.

Absentmindedly, he waves Minjae in and reclines in his chair. "Do you need something?" He needs to work on being _less_ direct. Seungmin says as much, that Seongjun is too sharp with the kids where he should be smooth, but Seungmin has been saying a lot of things recently which don't sit well with him. Exhaling, Seongjun pushes the sight of him out of mind and throws a quick grin towards Minjae who's already splayed himself across the couch.

"Shoes off if you're going to be doing that." 

Without missing a beat, Minjae grimaces; nose flaring, slightly, with the effort. "Come home. We're ordering food." As he kicks off his shoes, Minjae sits up straight and shrugs, a full-bodied thing like he's shivering from cold gales and not just stuck in a room with a friend who never listens to reason. 

The almost imperceptible thrum of the computer seems to stutter and come to a stop at this, studio becoming more stuffy with every second and Seongjun throws his head back, working out the kinks in his muscles slowly. Finally, abandoning his composition, he swivels and faces Minjae's disapproving countenance. He almost scoffs at the audacity but stops himself, looking past the twist of Minjae's expression to what he really is: a kid. Full cheeks and wide-eyes betray Minjae's innocence and Seongjun can't help but sigh, a sad little thing.

Honesty doesn't come easily to Seongjun even at the best of times and right now it escapes his view like a ghoul that only lurks at the edge of your vision. It's not a stretch to say that Minjae has been growing before his eyes, a tiny prodigious boy who gives away his smiles too easily, as bright as the brightest of stars. 

_Seungmin is always telling me to less **blunt** ,_ he thinks again, before making a decision.

Honesty can wait if it means he can keep Minjae carelessly happy, Seongjun isn't in the business of stealing innocence like the thief in the night that he often feels he is.

Insecurities are meant to be locked away, out of sight from those that it may harm. Seongjun can't harm him, _any_ of them. Turning back, Seongjun saves his work and stands, moving briskly out of the room. "So, what are we having?"

He doesn't miss the look on Minjae's face and the satisfaction is barely enough to keep any derisive thoughts at bay.

Even as they walk away, distance stretching further, Seongjun's mind is still in the studio, composition weaving through his grey matter in minor key, an incomplete soliloquy with tapered edges embedded in the deepest parts of him.

  
It feels a _bit_ insulting when Huijun is genuinely shocked that Seongjun has come home. His voice cracks as he asks whether Seongjun is ill which is enough to make Seongjun consider swatting at him before leaving again. However, before he can enact his amazing plan, Seungmin is rushing in, donned in a ratty tshirt with an excessively worn out neck that keeps slipping off one shoulder. Seongjun has to stop himself from berating Seungmin again, constantly walking around like they can't afford new clothes. 

"Seongjun! I'm glad you could grace us with your presence," sometime during Seungmin's silvery comments of scorn, Huijun has the presence of mind to disappear across the room to watch TV. Unfortunately, that means that Seongjun is stuck to be chided. "We've been waiting, y'know?" Seungmin has youth drawn across his face, skin still unmarred from the terror of the world, lips still splitting into a simple, crystalline smile as he sits down, so damaging that Seongjun has to avert his eyes and capture his image in only short glimpses, afraid that they both might burn up in search of something stronger.

Despite this train of thought, Seongjun is all too aware that Seungmin that has no idea of what lays under Seongjun's finely tuned exterior. This is only proven by the way he senselessly leans forward, radiant laughter ringing even as his tshirt slips further. "We were beginning to think that you'd forgotten your way home!" 

"Yeah, well, Minjae asked so I kind of had to." He admits sheepishly, scooching aside discreetly.

Seungmin only laughs again, "I knew if I sent him with his puppy-dog eyes, you could never resist." Reaching out, he pats Seongjun, abruptly quieter than before. "Yechan and Junhyuk not being here is weirder than I thought it would be. The dorm is too empty, you should be here more often for morale and stuff." There he is again, with the logic and the reasonable pleas that border on grating at Seongjun's resolve.

Seongjun always had been weak.

Snatching at Seungmin's hand, he holds it for a second, palms dry, before he lets go and pulls at Seungmin's collar. "It's cold. Stop wearing this before I throw it out."

Gasping, Seungmin protests while shifting backwards hastily, "Over Huijun's dead body!" At this, Huijun's head perks up with apparent disbelief. Before he can comment, Minjae enters the room, arms laden with food.

It turns out that tonight is curry night.

Momentarily, Seongjun can pretend that everything is alright. Minjae nudging him as they devour the food, prompting a playfight that brings unbridled laughter to the 4 of them.

He can smile until he feels the call of music from somewhere in the distance, unfamiliar dance steps tugging at his heels, and the ticking time bomb of a trainee contract relentlessly bearing down on him.

Seongjun has suddenly lost his appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title and fic title are taken from "love me for life" by BROCKHAMPTON.


	2. join the craze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungmin’s logic truly is infallible. Curse him.

Bloodshot eyes don’t make for good press release pictures. While this may seem obvious, for Seongjun the fact is revealed in the midst of a photoshoot. He supposes that he should be grateful that his stylist is so lenient, pulling him to the side before he can step in front of the cameras. Of course, being told _you look like a crack-addict who needs his next fix,_ isn’t all that tactful. In the end, there isn’t much he can do, so he poses for the photos and weathers the harsh criticism from the photographer and his manager. It's embarrassing though, to be chided in front of all the other trainees, more than a dozen of them milling around with sparkly hair and uncertain smiles.

“He’s gonna need even more editing in post”, the overzealous photographer groans, glancing back at the other members quietly monitoring in their obscenely over-priced designer attire. Seongjun just smiles like he can’t hear what’s being said. He can, though. He can hear all of it.

As it turns out, numerous late nights take their toll on your health. So, while Seongjun has been arriving home later and later to compensate for the lack of work being done, his health has taken a regrettable hit. This emerges in the form of dark under-eyes, sallow skin and a sodden lethargy weighing down his bones. Through it all, he still manages to function. A desperate sort of determination that moves his limbs even when he can think of nothing better than taking a nap.

Scowling, the photographer dismisses him, and he bows rigidly before slinking off towards where the others are gathered. Glancing at the computer screen, he realises just why the staff seem so annoyed. Sunken cheeks and pallid skin do not make for good pictures.

Nudging Huijun, he leans close and whispers, “At least this confirms that I’m _not_ the visual.” This sets them both off, stifled snorts disrupting the quiet solemnity that had covered the atmosphere, an oppressive gauze of muted greys and the occasional click of the camera. In turn, Minjae and Seungmin question with curious eyes, as to what’s so funny. Huijun, as helpful as ever, repeats the joke while struggling to keep his unabated laughter in check. It’s warm as the others laugh, all of them unable to reign in this single moment of simple joy.

Maybe it’s worth it to work so hard all the time, if only Seongjun can continue to have moments like this forever.

“Don’t worry, hyung. You’re the best-looking after me.” Minjae reassures with a tone of superiority as he reaches out and tries to pinch Seongjun’s cheeks, but he’s swiftly swatted away, Seongjun tries to maintain a straight face; if only to maintain his dignity. He ends up grinning regardless, relentless delight exposing itself in casual strokes.

It’s when the kids are called away for a duo collection of photos that Seungmin finally says what’s on his mind, smile bubbling under the nuance of a silent storm. He places both hands on Seongjun’s shoulders and looks him squarely in his feline-like eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Seongjun wilts with the grace of an Amaryllis flower.

“You’re going to take a nap, right this instant. I’m not planning on debuting with a corpse, Son Seongjun.” Seungmin pushes him towards the waiting room with a strength that doesn’t befit his slight build. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Groaning, Seongjun sits down atop the worn-out couch, legs aching from standing all day. He rolls his eyes, pulling the tight collar of his shirt loose and shrugging off his jacket. “I’m only getting extra training in. It’s hardly life-threatening.” He tries for another weak smile but Seungmin refuses to reciprocate, foot tapping impatiently.

“How about this?” He steps close, once again, invading Seongjun’s precious space in all the ways that makes it seem like oxygen is being sapped from his lungs. Before Seongjun can short-circuit from confusion, Seungmin continues devilishly, kohl-rimmed eyes devious. “Every time you stay out, I’ll stay with you.” He smirks, self-satisfaction practically oozing from his smarmy expression.

Jolting up, Seongjun uses what little height-advantage he has to look down at Seungmin and he frowns, serious and dismissive at the very suggestion. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re stretched thin enough as it is, helping all the other trainees.”

Somehow, Seungmin finds himself unable to restrain a chuckle, gazing at Seongjun like he’s unaware of something important. “ _Hypocrite._ Now you know how I feel.” Finally stepping back, Seungmin readjusts his headband, strands of hair spilling over and framing his face in a soft picture of perfection. “It’s not just me, Minjae and Huijun are so obviously worried about you. Just because they don’t tell you doesn’t mean it’s not _true.”_

Seungmin’s logic truly is infallible. Curse him.

“I can’t make any promises.” He concedes, a cowardly sort of compromise to appease the small deviant that stands before him.

“Just try. _Please_.”

Seongjun wants to tell him that he’s been trying all this time, clinging to the thought of acceptance like a miserable lifeline, but the words won’t come out, stuck in his throat like jagged little reminders that the truth is never good enough. Not in this lifetime, probably not in any lifetime.

The truth is too harsh for aspiring idols like them, not pretty enough to be spoken aloud.

When the photoshoot is done, Seongjun escapes using the excuse of _much needed fresh air_ before walking aimlessly. Seoul is the afterlife, a half-baked excuse for a city, packed with starry-eyed people chasing the high of the impossible. It’s numbing, this façade. Yet, it’s here where he can let go. He's coated in the rum-soaked sensibilities of youth, and a peculiar sense of mortality twisting out of sight like vines that pull at his soul and remind him to never give in; to never grow old. That’s when you’ve lost, really.

Seongjun is caught between being the perfect son and the perfect trainee, the perfect friend and the perfect hyung. Even when they contradict each other, slicing into each facet of him, he has to keep up the act. There are too many labels spinning circles across his identity, dizzy with every frantic turn.

Underneath all of it what is there? Really?

Ethanol filling his head with fumes, Seongjun looks towards the horizon, sun closing in on the earth like the disappearance of a secret, gold and untouchable all at once.

He recalls the others. In a perfect world, he’d take the brunt of this inescapable weight. The burden of living in a world defined by red-ringed chaos. He’d turn this tarnished copper into a more meaningful use of space and burnish the metal that lines the floor of their earth. If it’s for them. He’d burn liquor into medicine to nurse them through the worst of their dreams.

Truthfully, though, Seongjun is not heroic. That is not in his capabilities, no matter what anyone else may think.

Seongjun’s days are coloured by a useless acceptance of his own fragility, tearing through his mind like paper.

The sun disappears. The secret is gone. Gold is not nearly as valuable as it once was.


	3. equivalency equations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, home isn't always the solution and Seongjun's finds out that some wishes should not be granted.

Happiness is relative. It relies on too many factors for joy to be an exact science, too turbulent to be measured in any predictable sort of process. Even so, Seongjun had thought that he would be happy when Junhyuk came home; a gaping hole in their home where he usually would be chattering away, a bubbly miscreant who'd grown on Seongjun far too quickly. 

He didn't want Junhyuk home in this context, though. It's past midnight, and he'd awoken from a phone call from their manager speaking in hushed tones, saying to prepare a _decent meal_ and _ask no questions_ so he had, bleary-eyed as he completed the tasks mechanically, mind far and away in a place where kids could be kids without consequence. 

A quiet shuffle at their door alerted Seongjun of their arrival and he had rushed to bring in the suitcases that their manager was lugging, Junhyuk lingering behind, shoulders bent forward defensively. 

Now, Seongjun is sitting on the couch, watching Junhyuk silently eat like every bite is a chore. Doing as he was told, Seongjun doesn't ask any questions, only telling Junhyuk to go to bed as soon as he finishes. He doesn't miss the way Junhyuk hesitates before walking away, left leg bending at the knee slightly more than what's normal.

He leaves the tap running for too long, even after he's dried the plates, staring out the window at the looming moon. What does it take to have your hard work pay off? He doesn't know, and evidently, Junhyuk doesn't know either, not when he can't find it in himself to meet Seongjun's eyes.

It's unfortunate, what lurks behind the corner in the dark, a vast land in Seongjun's pysche waiting to be picked apart. The music running through his veins is begging to be let out, through any which way that it can. His brain is bloated from the excess, skin turgid to the touch. Seongjun wants to walk away from himself, too afraid of his thoughts and responsibilities. 

Junhyuk is a child, limbs skinny enough to scare him, and he has childish dreams and worries that he's often whispered into Seongjun's ears, as if keeping at a low enough volume will stop the syllables from leaking into reality. A child's game, perhaps, but one that Seongjun has always indulged. Maybe, that was his first mistake, because now Junhyuk has had his first taste of how cruel the world can be to those unsuspecting enough and Seongjun doesn't know how to even broach the subject, let alone explain it.

Finally, shutting off the tap, he shakes his hands out of agitation and leans against the heavy wood counters with an exhaustion that permeates the roots of his spine, climbing his back and crawling into his ear canals. It settles there, as a thought springs forth. 

_Does Junhyuk hate the number 9 as much as I do?_

He had never thought to ask how Junhyuk had truly felt about joining the survival show, not past the initial superficial questions that they had all posed. Not when the bitterness threatened to spill through with every utterance, acid dissolving his vocal cords and shaping their interactions in the most uncomfortable, cordial manner. The cowardice is more prominent in the dark, so he closes his eyes to escape what he doesn't want to see.

_Will he run to the TV every Wednesday to watch alongside me?_

An innocuous feeling of distaste rises when Seongjun realises that Yechan is still competing, even as Junhyuk returns home with his heart dragging along on the floor behind him. It's irrational, his resentment. But he feels it regardless, as real as the ground beneath his feet. Because Yechan is there, opportunity in his open palm, while they're all here; watching.

As much as he can, Seongjun excuses this as natural anger formed on Junhyuk's behalf. The truth bangs against his chest like a home invader, one that's desperate to get to the heartbeat that's _thud, thud, thudding_ along precariously, too fast for the dead of night. He's not angry for Junhyuk, though that adds to the flames. It's _him._ It's _Seongjun_ , who latches onto the hatred at Yechan who just sauntered into his life and suddenly gained everything that he'd been working so hard for from day 1.

Yechan who smiles and gains praise, an insufferable know-it-all who once stood toe-to-toe with Seongjun and only smiled, as if Seongjun wasn't even worth the battle.

His water-pruned fingers curling into fists, Seongjun resists the urge to hit something and lets out a pained whine instead, barely enough to disturb the air. It does nothing but poke at the layers of his subconscious, because even _that's_ not the whole truth.

He hates Yechan not just for that. He hates him because he forces him to face up to his own flaws and understand that maybe he's not cut out for this. For any of this.

How can Seongjun look at Junhyuk tomorrow and tell him that it will all be okay? How can he look at any of them and brave through this winter that has settled upon their youth? A blizzard has knocked over the tidy perceptions that they had once held about what it means to be real people and Seongjun is ill-equipped to deal with the aftermath.

He tries to find the answer in his sleep, settling in bed with his knees tucked in tight. Foolish hearts call for foolish solutions. Sleep evades him, as it always does, so he tries to muster up the brainpower to songwrite. Near-complete sentences dance across the edge of his vision, ghostly apparitions no doubt conjured up from his sleep deprivation. Eyes fluttering shut, Seongjun can almost feel the melody pulsing against his skin but the words dissipate, poetry rattling around his skull until the only things he can think of are 

•Junhyuk limping

•Yechan's smile as he walks away

•Seungmin's forlorn expression as his tshirt gains another loose thread

Around and around, these images circle like neon burns on the inside of Seongjun's eyelids, torture and simultaneous relief until he doesn't know whether or not he's awake anymore. 

In the end, it's the last memory that he's caught on, the one that trails after him as he slips through the veil into his dreams. It's Seungmin who singes his skin even as Seongjun falls into a fitful sleep.

Ghouls and ghosts have nothing on the fear that Seungmin elicits in him. It's one that penetrates his carefully composed walls and spirals tight loops around his ribcage. Seungmin steals his breath away.

That can't be a good thing.

Not here. Not now. Not when they're on the verge of something that could make or break their lives.

Not in this lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments so I can know if this chapter was good!!
> 
> How has everyone liked the comeback?? The song is so lively which is perfect for this goddamned quarantine ugh


	4. can't be fonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It drives me crazy, this silence.

Morning comes with no reprieve and he's as lost as the night before, restless slumber having given no answers. He doesn't need his reflection to know what he looks like. A man gone crazy, probably. He can sense the neuroticism hanging above him - a label like a death sentence. 

It's only when he begins to hear vague motion from the rest of the dorm that he forces himself to walk out into the common area and assess who's already awake. At the dining table, Minjae and Huijun and are talking urgently, hushed voices causing a short of friction against Seongjun's patience. They're sat close, so absorbed in what --Seongjun already knows-- Minjae must be telling Huijun. 

It occurs to Seongjun that he should have gotten Junhyuk to sleep in his room, rather than in his shared room with Minjae, so that he could at least have tried to control the narrative that is already spinning out of his control. Especially with how attached at the hip Minjae and Huijun can be, a pair of lost twins reunited under unusual circumstances.

Instead of ruminating on this mistake, he instead coughs. The two boys jolt, heads twitching in his direction, both with equally sheepish expression; not quite guilt but possibly teetering on the ledge that leads into it.

 _There's no point beating around the bush._ He pulls a chair out and sits opposite them, trying to channel his most reassuring expression. Judging by Huijun's pained grimace, it must not be working. 

"I guess you guys are wondering about Junhyuk being home?" He ruffles Minjae's hair, conscious of their disconcerted looks, eyes staring at his like he has all the answers to their questions.

_I don't._

Minjae shifts and Seongjun's hand falls away. He picks at a hangnail, frowning even as Seongjun shines with a smile. "Why is he back? What happened to the show? Did he get eliminated?" The quickfire questions are plagued with unease and Minjae stops messing with his hangnail, only to hold onto Seongjun's hand. "Is he okay?" 

They're good kids and Seongjun doesn't know what he's done to deserve them. Squeezing back tight, Seongjun drops the smile. "Truthfully?" He asks, both of them nod their heads earnestly, hair falling over their tired eyes. "I don't know. All I know is that we shouldn't ask him about it." They're disappointed, Seongjun can see the instant disappointment seep through the furrow of their brows. 

They were expecting an explanation but all they get is the confirmation that Seongjun is too incompetent to even be trusted with the knowledge of Junhyuk's sudden appearance. 

He's surprised when Huijun stands, leaning forward and patting Seongjun briskly on the shoulder, crease around his eyes deepening as he grins. "If he's not okay, then he will be. Don't sweat it. At least you tried, hyung."

He says it so easily. Seongjun doesn't know how it's possible. How this much comfort can be brought through something so small. A space in his ribcage is emptying out and Huijun and Minjae's smiles are filling it up, as light as air.

There are brief moments when he thinks that life is meant for him, a play where the ending can only ever be spectacular. 

They're moving, leaving him at the table with a silly grin on his face, one that he can't control. "Do you want cereal?" He only murmurs yes, curious about something.

"Has Junhyuk gotten up?"

Minjae hesitates, bowls in his hands almost tipping over, as he tries to open the fridge door before Huijun comes up from behind and offers him help. "He went out with Rawon hyung." He smiles uncertainly upon mentioning their manager. "He had a medical appointment?"

"Oh."

"Yeah." Minjae makes their cereal --pouring the milk first -- deciding not to ponder on the enigma that is Junhyuk's extraordinarily early return. 

Just then, Seungmin shuffles in, quietly taking a bowl from the counter and sitting down. He starts eating without even looking at the others and shovels cereal inside his mouth with a vengeance. 

The unappealing sounds get to be too much. Seongjun can't help but glare as his own bowl, the food no longer as appetising as a minute prior. "Uh...Seungmin?"

"What?"

"Can you eat less like a pig?" The frustration seeps through his voice, rough and small so the others don't hear. 

Seungmin, as per usual, ignores Seongjun's request and starts oinking with impunity which only gets the kids to join in.

"Guys-" Seongjun rolls his eyes, a headache already forming, too annoying too handle.

_Oink._

_This is ridiculous._ He thinks, wondering how he's meant to debut with people who refuse to listen. It doesn't stop a grin from bubbling up, one that breaks loose when Huijun starts dancing, something silly and uncoordinated.

"If you guys don't stop, I'll request a team change." The three of them fall abruptly silent, Huijun dropping into his chair and begins obediently eating like nothing had happened. The change gives him whiplash and he grins even wider.

It's an empty threat, obviously, but their loyalty makes Seongjun's chest swell with pride.

"I'm glad you remember how to smile," Seungmin still doesn't look up from his food, albeit quieter now, "if you keep scowling all the time you might get stuck like that." 

Seungmin looks like he is aware of everything, watching the pieces fall into place as he orchestrates something bigger than all of them. He pushes Seongjun, yeah, but only to make him laugh. Seongjun doesn't know if every move is calculated but he can appreciate it. 

He can understand how easy it is to fall for someone when that someone is Seungmin. 

He can see how hard it is to leave a family when the family is as good as this.

When Junhyuk comes home this time, there are no suitcases, and their manager makes no effort to be quiet, holding Junhyuk's arm and leading him in like he's glass that hasn't yet set; still fiery from the heat of a torch.

The others leave for the company in the morning and while it kills Seongjun to be sitting stagnant - he couldn't leave without seeing Junhyuk again, making sure that he's really flesh and bone, not just a mirage made true from too many late nights, the conjuring of a mind that's falling apart in the absence of air.

They finish their training and come back home, but Junhyuk returns to the dorm even later, burnt sky darkening as the sunlight wanes, waves of clouds disappearing. 

When he does, he stares at them with a face that they've never seen before, face flushed red - from anger or embarrassment, Seongjun doesn't know - and he seems to crumple, before saying an almost soundless, "I'm sorry." 

Junhyuk glances at his bedroom door, wanting to escape from all the weighted stares coloured beige by pity. He almost does, but then Huijun is launching himself across the room and enveloping him in a warm hug, wool scratching against his skin. "Dude, these idiots nearly bored me to death!" While the sentiment isn't exactly the _sweetest_ , they let it slide just this once. 

"Welcome home." Minjae sidles up and swings his arms around the both of them, stretching to hold them close. For a moment, Seungmin and Seongjun meet eyes conspiritally, and walk forward to join in - a big mess of arms and stupid whispers with Junhyuk in the centre, warm and yielding.

"We've missed you." Someone says, voice muffled but Seongjun feels in in his heart and decides that _yes, we have_ and _I'm never letting go again._

This isn't the answer, of course. There's much more to be done and far more to be said but for right now, it's enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ?????
> 
> Can't even encapsulate what I feel about this update!!!
> 
> Going stir crazy in this quarantine!!!
> 
> !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Also, hoping that there will be more fics for Seungmin/Seongjun. It's lonely being the only person writing for them lol


End file.
